


sun against a black sky.

by valvet



Category: Doom Patrol (TV)
Genre: Gen, Its..a lot, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Alternating, Possibly Unrequited Love, Pre-Canon, Stalking, Suicide Attempt, Trauma, courting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26639986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valvet/pseuds/valvet
Summary: Eric Morden was supposed to die, that was the plan, die, and finally leave this horrible world that kicked him down every day.Red Jack however, had other plans, pitiful plans.
Relationships: Red Jack/Eric Morden
Kudos: 1





	1. 0. sun

**Author's Note:**

> tw for this whole chapter being attempted suicide by train. this fic isnt gonna be fun chief!

Usually, when Eric became depressed, it didn't end up with him sitting on the train tracks, most days it was either him drinking himself to sleep to keep Minnie from his head, or he’d take as many work shifts as possible to feel something other than horrible misery. But this isn't a story about normalcy, after all, that's not what anybody comes to a story for; they come for some sort of entertainment; and mostly, Eric Morden doesn't have anything useful--but this is different.

Entering the train coming up on him, the week wasn't bad and certainly not stressful, but it didn't have to be. The suicide plan had already been planned out since he was first thought about killing himself, trains don't leave anything behind, the body becomes disfigured most times, nobody would miss him. Maybe Minnie would, but she’d get over it, they all always do, if his parents could easily get over him cutting them off and on multiple occasions threatening suicide, then why would anybody else do different?

It's closer now, his entire hearing is taken up by the sound of it in the distance; it comforts him in a way to know that it will finally be over. Eric thought about drug overdose before, it's quick and usually painless--but he doesn't deserve that, what he needs it to be hurt, he deserves every piece of pain that comes to him; and his death? Oh, that has to be slow, Eric knew suicidal people before; they long since died, and they were cheerful in comparison to him, it was obvious that they were sad, miserable; they wanted it to end quickly so they could try again. 

Eric needed it to be horrible, for the train to carry him on for hundreds of feet to show every single one of those people what they did to him; for his body to not die until all his blood was drained and his pain endless. 

He can hear it right next to him now--soon he’ll be finally free’d of this cursed world, the one that would beat him down every chance it got, giving him the world sets of attributes; pride, greed--lust. Any chance he’d take to redeem that, to become the perfect man; oh what would they give him? More misery, more work, more damn touching--

Hopefully the other side is nothing, pastors call out for heaven, but even if one existed, he was never going to it. At least nothing is quiet, harsh to the people who’ve done right in the eyes of the world.

All that pain--that anger and self hatred made into one final decision of his own disgusting life that would finally come to an end, Eric brooded with it throughout his skin as he counted down the seconds to impact

3.

2.

1.

But yet, nothing came to show--well that isn't true, he did feel something, a sharp pain up his neck, and his nerves going into a frenzy of movements; his brain clouded over with electricity. 

When Eric Morden woke up, he was in the hospital for a seizure, not attempted suicide. Minnie at his side crying out fake kind words to him, telling him off and begging him to stay. Her face didn't matter though, everything around him felt like a giant blurry mess, faces melted into the furniture and backgrounds behind them, what mattered was the words that kept coming into his head that had never been there before; an idea that never in his lifetime would he utter to the idea of his own demise.

NOT YET.


	2. i. new moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh tw for cutting and again thoughts of suicide

By the time Eric got out of the hospital, he’d already made the decision that perhaps death by train wasn't the best idea. Never in his life was he superstitious, sure he worked for The Brain, which in of itself was a moral contrary to the concept of life; but the supernatural? Oh, well that didn't exist at all, perhaps it was just a deep part of his brain trying to convince himself not to die, but listening to0 himself was never something he’d ever do in that regard. 

Minnie didnt live with him, which gave him ample time to...think about his next decision. It was late afternoon and his entire apartment was shining in the sun; horrid. 

It came down to two choices, either he was going to get blackout drunk and get into a car crash, or he was going to cut himself. Both of them seemed equally as appealing, on one hand a car crash is something that, if you do it right, can land you up in a lot of pain before you eventually die, not to mention you get to take somebody down with you. However, you always have a chance of surviving, a big chance actually, and certainly Eric wasn't going to have the rest of his life with being stuck in a wheelchair, he wanted pain, not embarrassment. 

Cutting himself was something he always thought about, it was painful, could take a long time and definitely had the benefits of a slow death. Maybe it was because he never did it when he was younger (the drinking was his go-to) but Eric never thought about it that much up until now. Even when he had planned to get run over, the idea of cutting himself never occurred.

Odd, maybe the seizure did that to him. Didn't matter, he quickly prepared, if he was going to die he’d rather be safe than sorry. He made sure on every level that nobody had to interrupt him this time around, the front door was locked and curtains drawn, only the light from the kitchen kept him from knowing exactly where everything was.

The knife in question he was to use wasn't decently big, he’d used it when he was cutting up meat while eating, eyes constantly on his meal rather than his “girlfriend”. It had a good enough edge to it that if he was to stab himself right then, in the heart, he’d probably do some damage. 

Eric took it into his hand as he turned over his free arm; rolling up his shirt sleeve, the bare arm that had never been damaged by anything like this, just ready to be devoured. He pressed the blade into his skin, and for a moment; thought about stopping, perhaps the car crash would be a better idea--until he started bleeding, then a rush of adrenaline came right into him like the train should've done, and that easily got rid of the thought of actually stopping; it didn't cut deep though--he needed it to be deep.

But, Eric was a coward, he knew that, even if he tried to press down harder he’d let it slip out of his fingers like the fiend he is, abandon his own damn suicide. 

However, that didn't happen, his hands didn't shake around or grow slippery, instead they pressed hard into his arm, the blood rushing right out to cover the kitchen counter, Eric’s eyes widened--was he doing that? It didn't feel like he was, hell the entirety of his hand was completely numb. He felt his mouth grow dry as he grind his teeth together, it hurt like the devil, but it felt so--well deserved. However, even as he tried to stop (considering the cut was well off now) it didn't, instead it began to move up his arm to his wrist and--

Eric threw the knife across the room--maybe it wasn't Eric who threw it or was trying to cut open his wrists, but something certainly did! He looked down at his arm, and laughed slightly at the blood coming out, before the panic struck in, he quickly began to search for paper towels.

“Shit shit shit shit---” Eric felt the sting of the towel and let out a shriek, why the hell did it hurt so much? It's not like he put any alcohol on it yet...the real important part was the fact that he had a giant gash in his arm now! Sure, he wanted to die, oh god did he, but this was just so much at once! If he was going to die it had to be slow, and blood loss when it comes to slitting your wrists is slow. It's fast and easy to lose track of, albeit the pain wasn't bad--but still. 

Once he managed to at least keep the bleeding to a minimum (as much as you can when you’re bleeding out from your arm), he sat down on the counter. He’d heard about restless leg syndrome, and how people who had that felt like they did not have control over their bodies, however, this was more than not being able to keep still;if possessions were a thing, this fit the bill. But still it didn't feel like...that, sure it wasn't him doing it, but it felt more like a person guiding him then being forced into doing something.

He ended up not eating that night, the knife stuck in the kitchen sink until Minnie came, when she asked, Eric brushed it off.

“Don’t fret, just cut my finger that's all” Eric Morden was good at nothing expect for lying, and thank god for that, hell hath no fury like a slap to the face


	3. ii. young

__ Now, to turn to a similar event, close enough to Eric Morden to be uncomfortable. He reeks his ugly head to the misery of others! Red Jack, the night of his actions of possession, to force Mr Morden to understand what he desired, enters stage left through his window. It was unlocked, and even if it wasn't, nothing could stop what he felt. The taste on his tongue was ever so real to him, most pain of this day and age was so dull to him, but this? Oh, it was close, filled with flavor and more importantly, horror.    
The room was dark, lights out completely, but that didn't matter, he knew where Mr. Morden was, he turned to his left, the new moon shining through the window onto his face; he didn't seem to be having an unpleasant dream. His face relaxed at last, since the train he was more tense than ever, he felt it on his tongue every time he looked at him, sour, but so potent. 

Red Jack let his gloved hand graze his face, soft still, still unharmed in the proper since; the only marking was the one he made just for him, to show him what for. 

It had been so long, so long since Red Jack had anybody, when was it--1867? London? That was the last time he had a human so close to him that wasn't screaming, the man at the time had such a gentle face, eyes half lidded as he let out sweet praises of drunkenness. 

He tasted quite well, his pain while dying was taking him heavenly. 

But--the past is in the past, and here he was! Eric Morden, the pain who seemed to suffer the most out of any man he’d ever met, even bad men have good days, luck even! But him? Every step he took was to more and more misery, to an unlovable, gruesome end. 

“Oh Mr. Morden, what I’m I to do with you…” A temptation came over him for a moment, the idea of to properly touch him--what was the word...love? Yes, that one! It came to him like a vision, but, instead he pressed his hand to Eric Morden’s forehead, perhaps now he’ll understand exactly what was in store for him.

NOT YET, MR MORDEN, DEATH ISN'T FOR YOU JUST YET.

A part of him wanted to wake him up now to tell him that, to interact physically while he was conscious. But, that was a game that was risky beyond belief, a horrid monster such as himself frightened any man to the bone, Mr. Morden would be no different; if he wished to succeed, to gain his love, he had to be slow with it.

And by God would he do that.


	4. iii. waxing crescent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big old tw for abuse in this chapter, also me projecting but thats this whole fic at this point

When Eric woke up, he was beyond confused of what the hell he had dreamt about, usually he didn't dream--it all melted into each other and wasn't special, and even if it was, it wasn't something he’d want to remember. However, this was different; it felt comforting somewhat. The entire time he was stuck in the same apartment he’d slave away at keeping, however, the tint of it was of a light pink color, and more importantly, an unfamiliar face was sitting on his couch; he was a man--maybe? Certainly sounded like one, his face was hard to understand, blurry edges with white and red, dressed like something that belonged in a museum.

“I--who are you?” it was a stupid question to ask, and thus, he got an answer that he deserved.

“You don’t have to know that yet, Mr. Morden,” He grinned, at least the mouth was easy to see, sharp, shark-like teeth in rows that seemed to go on forever. “But, I know you, oh--I know you very well, seen what you’ve been doing to yourself even” at that, self consciousness came over him like hell.

“Don’t feel bad for me” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth, “I don’t need pity” 

Then, something strange happened, he laughed--a harsh one at that.

“Oh god no! I’m not pitying you, that's such a trivial human emotion to feel, no I feel...appreciation towards you, albeit your methods of release are quite dull, but we all have our vices now don’t we?” The man--monster, stood up, putting a hand to Eric’s chest, it felt nice somehow, it hurt like hell, like a million knives were going right through him, but good. 

“I want you to get more hurt, but not die, not yet, Mr. Morden, death isn't fit for you just yet” 

And thus, it ended.

He looked down at his chest, and expected something to be there, to his own surprise, there was, a decently large scar wound--no not scar, marking, it was intricate somehow, but it was hard to put down what exactly did him harm. But, he knew not to touch it, even if it pulsed with heat. 

Eric then heard the doorbell rang, and slowly got to his feet, putting a robe over himself as he made it to the door, Minnie stood there with a look of concern.

“Oh--Minnie I didn't know you were coming today” Sleep was still in his eyes, she fidgeted about.

“I wasn't but--can I ask you something?” Oh no, Eric put on his best fake smile.

“Sure?” then, she came in--well this wasn't good, when this happened, when she’d ask to talk to him, it was either because she wanted money, or that she was going to accuse him of something. This was a record, usually she came in the evening to give out her grievances.

“Eric I...do people at your work know about me?” That was new.

“No? I mean, people know I’m a taken man but--is somebody bothering you?” He did care about her after all.

“Well...I got a message in my mailbox about you and...it was directed at me, talking about how I didn't deserve a guy like you and how you were “already a marked man” or something, if you’re cheating on me Eric I swear…” 

“Why would I cheat on you? Minnie I don't go anywhere!” 

“I know you! You’re a desperate guy, any girl gives you their eye and you immediately start up on them!” Eric laughed in awkward fear.

“I don’t do that! If a girl is onto me I ignore them because I l--like you!” Minnie pointed at him

“See! You don’t even love me! God Eric--why do I even bother with you? I can excuse the fact you’re not manly but that? And all this stupid marking stuff? God I’m done with you--” Eric felt his heart go into the pit of his stomach, he quickly scrambled over to her; he can’t lose her--this, love--just yet.

“Wait Minnie no! I--I love you! Don’t leave…” She paused

“Prove it” 

“What?”

“I said prove it! If you love me when show that you do!” He stood in his place, trying to think of something that would make him horribly uncomfortable--but Minnie’s hard hit right against his face, and the mark in his chest bled with pain. “Do it Eric!” The fact tears were welling up in his eyes already.

“Minnie please, I--I love you so much, I’d never cheat on you with anybody, you’re my gal and--” another hit to the face.

“Try harder than that!” Her voice was so loud, “kiss me dammit! Show me that you won't go near anybody else except for me!” Not like he had a choice, she kissed him, even as Eric’s entire body recoiled into itself, even as the mark in his chest horribly began to throb in pain, the teeth from that thing looking at him now as she pressed him into the wall.

“Don’t be a pansy! Fuck me” Everything burned with flames, even if he could see what was going on, he could barely comprehend it. Eric felt his brain receded back into his skull, even as Minnie began to unzip him, he couldn't feel it, just the burning feeling in his heart.

Make it stop make it stop make it stop stop stop stop please.

STOP IT STOP IT STOP STOP 

STOP PLEASE  PLEASE PLEASE

YOU DESERVE IT.

TAKE IT TAKE IT STOP IT STOP IT.

By the time Eric came to, she was already gone, and he began to sob.


End file.
